


A Little Big Problem

by measleyweasley



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Geraskier, M/M, yes Geralt loves big dick no I won't be taking criticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22309810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/measleyweasley/pseuds/measleyweasley
Summary: Jaskier has a big dick and Geralt's life is full of suffering because of it
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 581





	A Little Big Problem

In Geralt’s defense, this is all Jaskier’s fault. 

Geralt had been perfectly content to spend another night sleeping under the stars but Jaskier had insisted that they stop off at the nearest Temerian inn so he could test out his newest ballad on the locals.

“C’mon, Geralt,” he’d pleaded with those big puppy eyes that Geralt would admit under pain of death worked on him, “you can spend one night in a bed and still be a big bad Witcher in the morning.”

Geralt had rolled his eyes but nonetheless let Jaskier guide them to the nearest inn. 

That was his first mistake.

His second mistake, which he still believes is Jaskier’s fault, was choosing to sit at a table where a few young maidens had already made themselves comfortable and were eyeing Jaskier with what Geralt thought were more than appreciative glances. 

“Do you think it’s true?” The blond one in the low-cut dress asked as Jaskier got the whole room clapping to the beat of his new song. Geralt considered how insufferable he would be later with his delighted told-you-so smile lighting up his face. At least they would be covered for the night if the way people were tipping was any indication. 

“No, surely it can’t be. You know how Matilda likes to stretch the truth.”

Her friend dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “Yes, I know that, but you remember the way she was walking after the last time the bard came into town. A dissembler, perhaps, but she’s not that skilled an actress.”

Her friend gave her a scrutinizing look. “Why are you bringing this up? Thinking about finding out for yourself?”

Geralt didn’t hear her answer as he was already moving away from the table to find somewhere to sit where the conversation was a little less sordid.

***

Because of the sudden flurry of contracts Geralt manages to forget the conversation in the inn. 

That is, he manages to forget it until Jaskier’s performing at another pointless ball that he’s forced Geralt to attend.

“I just need you to keep me out of trouble!” Jaskier had begged. “I can’t explain it but noblewomen get shockingly frisky at these to-do’s. If I want to be invited back, and I _do_ , do you know how much they’re paying me?” He held up the pouch, or rather satchel of coins the castle-keeper had handed him when they’d arrived. “Then I have to be on my best behavior.”

Geralt had agreed, if only to save himself a future headache and a fight with a pissed-off husband. 

But apparently he shouldn’t have worried about fighting off husbands as he’s forced to physically remove yet another drunk baroness from his currently tomato-red friend. Jaskier shoots him a look of relief and starts up another song. 

“You can’t keep that all to yourself,” she pouts as Geralt deposits her into a chair and hands her a goblet of water. “It’s just not fair.”

"Drink," he says in response. And really, Geralt knows that Jaskier has his own charms. He’s of a well-built frame, thick dark hair, nice voice. More than that, Jaskier has proven himself to be kind and loyal, sticking by Geralt even when it lands him in peril. But he feels he must be missing something as he watches the baroness stare at Jaskier and stroke her décolletage in a decidedly predatory manner. “Why does it seem that every woman here wants a piece of Jaskier?”

“Well, it’s really only one specific piece that we’re all after,“ she says, turning and smiling at Geralt conspiratorially. “Come on, just between us, how big is it?”

Geralt is saved from having to watch the baroness measure the air with her hands by Jaskier’s yelp from across the hall. He quickly strides off to peal yet another young lady’s hands away from his bard’s person.

***

The third time, Geralt walks into the stable, hears a voice that sounds like the stableboy moan, “Fuck, are all musicians this hung?,” and walks right back out.

***

After that, Geralt really can’t be blamed for looking.

It’s barely even looking, more like glancing, just a peek.

He’s just curious. 

And it’s not like he even goes out of his way to do it. Again, this is absolutely Jaskier’s fault. They’ve been traveling for four days with no towns in sight in search of an incubus that really didn't fucking want to be found when Jaskier literally puts his foot down. He crosses his arms and stamps his foot, forcing Geralt and Roach to come to a halt. 

“If I don’t bathe in the next twenty minutes all my skin is going to rot and fall off my body and you’ll have to kill me for being a possessed skeleton and you’ll be all broody about it.”

Geralt doesn’t bother to respond to that, just jerks his head to the side and says, “stream’s that way.” 

As Geralt’s pulling the bread and cheese out of their pack for a quick lunch, he can’t help but glance over Roach’s back to where Jaskier’s bathing in the stream.

And-

And okay, Geralt is a big guy all over, but that _thing_ between Jaskier’s legs is just ridiculous.

He must stare a little too long because Roach smacks him in the face with her mane.

***

Geralt may be a proud man, but he’s still a man, and he can appreciate a man with nice…proportions. And Jaskier certainly has them. They’re staying in another inn, one with a comfortable bed that Geralt sinks into the second they get upstairs. They didn’t have enough for separate rooms, so Geralt is making the most of his alone time while Jaskier performs downstairs. Geralt has kept his hands to himself, or off himself if you wanted to be technical about it, since the stream incident. 

But now, now Geralt’s been working up to this for the past half hour and he can admit to himself that it’s not just curiosity or aesthetic appreciation as he jerks off to the thought of getting his mouth on Jaskier’s cock. _Fuck, take it, you’re so good at that_ , the Jaskier in his head says, pulling his thick imaginary cock out of Geralt’s mouth and rubbing it against his lips, _beg me to fuck your mouth._

Geralt moans as he sucks on his fingers, a poor imitation of the real thing. 

He finishes and cleans up, feeling only marginally guilty for using his best friend as masturbation fodder as he falls asleep. 

***

When Geralt wakes up, it’s to sunlight hitting his face and a warm body pressed up against his side.

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier mumbles something unintelligible and snuggles even closer.

Geralt, who’s still feeling a little muzzy from just having woken up, is suddenly very alert when he realizes just what part of Jaskier is pressing against his thigh. 

“ _Jaskier,_ ” Geralt says, more urgently this time. 

“Hmm?” 

Geralt doesn’t know how to say _you’re hard and I’m practically dying to get my hand around you because your cock is so fucking big that nobody can shut up about it and you need to get off me before I do something very stupid_ , so he keeps his mouth shut and tries to disentangle himself without making his erection obvious. 

But because Geralt is a failure he only succeeds in accidentally grinding his thigh between Jaskier’s legs. Jaskier moans and tightens his hold around Geralt’s torso. “Hmm, you’re good at that.”

The echo of praise from his fantasy makes Geralt hot all over and his cock even harder. 

And okay, Geralt may be a failure but he’s not stupid, which is why he unsteadily asks, “Do you want-I mean I could-if you like.”

That finally causes Jaskier to lift his head and look at Geralt blearily. “I would like. Would _you_ like?”

And Geralt says, a little desperately, "You, I always like," which he realizes doesn't make any sense but it’s enough for Jaskier who gets his hands underneath Geralt and promptly grabs his ass. Geralt can’t help moaning as Jaskier uses his newfound leverage to grind hard against Geralt, panting against his neck in a way that makes Geralt’s dick twitch from where it’s trapped between them. 

Not content to lay there like a log, Geralt grabs Jaskier’s hips, urging him on. That doesn’t seem to be enough for Jaskier who unlaces his breeches (and really, not even Geralt sleeps in his clothes) and shoves Geralt’s hand inside. 

Geralt moans so loud he’s sure his ears pop as he finally curls his hand around him.

Jaskier huffs a laugh but doesn’t stop fucking into Geralt’s hand. “I take it you’re a fan?”

Geralt pants. “Please shut up.”

Jaskier pouts. “And here I thought you liked me," he says, gently squeezing Geralt's cock in return. "And I certainly like you, but if you've changed your mind-" he trails off, letting go of Geralt and making to get up. 

And well, he thinks as he shoves Jaskier flat on the bed and takes him in his mouth, this may be Jaskier’s fault, but Geralt is nothing if not forgiving.


End file.
